Story
The night smelled of wet earth and iron. Rain drummed against the thatched roof, running in rivulets down the cracked windowpanes. Inside the cottage, a woman knelt before the hearth, her hands trembling as she traced a circle of ash upon the floor. Her name was Maerin, though few would dare to speak it now.
The fire guttered low, then flared a sickly green. The air grew heavy, and the shadows on the walls shifted though nothing moved. A voice seeped from the dark, smooth as oil.
"You called, little one."
Maerin did not look up. "You know why."
"I always know why," the voice purred. "You want your son back."
Her breath caught. In the corner, a small shape lay wrapped in linen, still and pale. The firelight painted his face in gold and shadow, and for a heartbeat he looked asleep.
"I will serve," Maerin whispered. "I will do whatever you ask."
The shadows thickened until the room itself seemed to breathe. The fire hissed, and something stepped from it, tall, indistinct, with eyes like coals. The demon regarded her with an expression that might have been pity, or amusement.
The contract was presneted, and signed in blood.
"Then rise, Maerin of the Vale," it said. "You are mine now."
The child's chest rose with a ragged gasp. His eyes opened-eyes that were not his. He turned toward her, and the smile that formed on his lips was warm.
Maerin gasped, but the demon only laughed.
"Do not thank me yet," it said softly. "He will live as long as you serve."
From that night on, storms followed her. Cattle died, milk soured, and children whispered of a woman who spoke to her shadow. Maerin no longer prayed for forgiveness. Each dawn she awoke to her son's voice, gentle and loving, asking herself what the demon required of her next.
And every command came harder than the last.

The Pact

Witches are mortals who have entered binding pacts with demons, trading their freedom for power. Whether driven by despair, greed, vengeance, or the thirst for forbidden knowledge, they all pay the same price, lifelong and total servitude. The pact is sealed in blood, unbreakable by mortal means. Both witch and demon are bound to it, each waiting for the other to falter.

Infernal Gifts

The powers granted to a witch mirror the nature of their demon. A witch bound to a fire demon might command flame and smoke, while one serving a demon of pestilence may spread sickness or rot. These gifts come at a cost. Every use of power deepens the connection, allowing the demon greater influence over its servant's thoughts and desires. The witch becomes both vessel and weapon. The more power used, the more the way out is closed.

Familiars

Witches often receive a familiar, a creature through which the demon keeps watch. Some take the form of cats, ravens, toads or serpents, but others are less natural, creatures of shifting eyes or whispering skin. While a familiar grants its witch some strength or insight, its true purpose is to observe and report, always watching for failure to serve. Through it, the demon sees all, hears all, and whispers its commands.

The Burden of Servitude

Demons are not interested in souls, they crave obedience and the suffering that comes from it. Their joy lies in control and corruption. They love to turn the tables on their servants, ordering them to commit horrific acts, often against people they care for. A witch might be commanded to poison a friend, betray a lover, or burn their own home. Refusal is not an option, for the pact enforces obedience with pain that gnaws the mind and flesh alike. Even those who once sought power for noble reasons find their will eroded until only submission remains.

The demon will portion out the suffering, though. As long as the witch maintains servitude, the demon doesn't want to break its toy, just hurt it.

The World's Hatred

Across Heroica, witches are feared and despised. To the common folk, they are living tools of evil. Temples condemn them as blasphemers. Witch hunters roam the lands with silver brands and holy fire. Even a rumor of witchcraft can lead to a pyre. Villagers hang charms of salt and iron, mutter prayers at crossroads, and avoid the gaze of strangers at dusk.

Some witches hide in plain sight. A few even try to twist their servitude into resistance, turning their powers against their demon's rivals. Such rebellion is dangerous, for the demon always finds a way to make its servant pay.

Demons and Rivalries

Demons are creatures of chaos and cruelty, not unity. Each pursues its own cruel amusements, seeking to outdo others in acts of corruption and pain. Their witches become pawns in endless rivalries, sent to sabotage, corrupt, or kill. When a witch fails or outlives her usefulness, her demon may turn her into the final sacrifice, delighting in her despair. A witch may die never realizing they were only a piece in a greater infernal game.

Theories and Fears

Some scholars believe witches are more than servants, they are anchors. Through them, demons channel fragments of their essence into the mortal world. Each pact weakens the barrier between realms. If too many witches live, it is said the veil itself could tear, allowing the demons to cross freely. Whether this is truth or superstition, none can say.

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